


Superman

by Roadstergal



Category: Star Trek, Superman (Reeveverse)
Genre: Loss, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4700909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadstergal/pseuds/Roadstergal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this fic after hearing that Leonard Nimoy had passed away.  It made me think of the other heroes of my youth who weren't with us anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superman

"You're here."  
  
"An astute observation, Doctor."  
  
It was just the sort of thing the blasted Vulcan _would_ say.  But the relief Bones felt at having him here, someone here... "I've been waiting for you for..." How long had it been? He hadn't the faintest idea, he realized. "Some time."  He looked around.  How long _had_ it been?  It was so foggy, his brain - not giving him a clear idea of how he had come to be here.  He remembered the Enterprise, and Vulcan, and San Francisco, all with the sweet, slightly Vaseline-rubbed filter of old memories, but this... landscape had the oddity of the unfamiliar juxtaposed with the lack of inspiration of the familiar.  
  
"It's good to be here." Rare uncertainty crept into Spock's voice. "It seems."  
  
They walked together, Bones not quite sure where they were going.  He _should_ know, however. He had been here for longer than Spock, after all - hadn't he?  The landscape refused to be clear, to make itself known.  Bones had the vague sense of columns as they walked past - trees?  Something earthy, living, but as cold and silent as marble.  
  
"Hello!  Hi there."  The voice was cheerful, smooth, calming, like a cold Tennessee whiskey on a hot night.  
  
Bones stopped, blinking. Where had that man come from?  The fit, handsome man in the slightly rumpled suit who stood before them, smiling gently.  "Who are you?"  
  
"Oh! My manners, yes.  It's been some time since I've seen anyone." The man stuck out his hand. "Clark. My name is Clark."  
  
Bones shook his hand - a warm, firm, strong hand.  Reassuring, solid and _real_ in this unreal place. "Leonard."  
  
"Spock," the Vulcan replied, gravely, clasping the man's hand briefly, the human gesture coming easily to him.  
  
"Oh!" The man nodded, thoughtfully.  "You're an alien, too, aren't you."  
  
"Too?" Bones stepped closer.  "You look human to me."  A pleasing man, nobody who would particularly draw Bones's eye if he were walking about, other than perhaps for a genial nod.  
  
Clark laughed gently. "Yes, it's funny how that works, isn't it?" He waved his hand. "Here.  Come this way."  
  
Bones paused. "Should we?" he asked Spock.  Damn him for being so confused, so indecisive!  
  
"This man seems to know where we are, the rules of this place," Spock mused.  "It would be logical to learn what we can from him."  
  
"Logic, always logic," Bones groused as they walked. "Look, what does your _logic_ say about this place?  I can't remember how we got here, I'm not sure why you're here and nobody else, I don't even know where 'here' is..."  
  
"It is puzzling," Spock agreed.  "I have no satisfying explanation. Some sort of amnesia..."  
  
"Amnesia has a reason!" Bones replied.  "It doesn't just happen!  Disease, some sort of pharmacological reaction..."  
  
"Or a blow to the head," Clark noted.  "Here." A warm fire that Bones had not noticed. He sat next to it with gratitude. His legs were sore, very sore, and the ground that they had been walking on had the same _cold_ and _hard_ feeling that the trees had given him, cold stone reimagined as wilderness.  Bones sighed, stretching his legs out. "You're tired, aren't you," Clark noted.  
  
"Yeah, I don't know why."  
  
"It's why you're here. You're here to rest."  
  
"I'll rest when I'm..." Bones frowned, tailing off. That was an expression, wasn't it? He didn't know how it ended.  
  
"You can sit, too." Clark sat, waving at Spock. The Vulcan settled onto a log gracefully.  "You have nothing more to worry about, either of you. Don't think about it anymore."  
  
"Can we fish?" Bones asked.  He felt an urge to fish, to be out on the water - the cool water, rocking gently in a boat, letting his hand trail over the side, smelling the smooth pleasure of a freshwater lake or the tumultous salinity of the ocean, closing his eyes as the sun danced on ripples and waves.  
  
"Yes." Clark nodded.  "We can fish, hike, whatever you like.  But for now, rest." Clark's hand was warm on his thigh.  "It's okay.  You're among friends.  Rest."


End file.
